Never Ending Cycle
by AkuinAkka
Summary: Those startling green eyes that follow my own, that trace every contour of my body, are not to be denied. Addiction sits upon Dependency; this is the ongoing-cycle of instability. Gaara/Gaara? Oneshot.


**A/N:** Wow, so this is my first fanfic. To be quite honest I'm not sure how I feel about this. Well, a little background on this; I was in an odd philosophical mood and was listening to TOOL at three in the morning. It seems the time and place really do effect my writing as I read this today and was floored by how odd it was. I know my writing is kind of sloppy as well as choppy in this, but I can't find it in me to change it. I hope it makes is much sense in my head as it does for you guys!

Ah well, if my imagery is as horrible as I believe it to be you'll be needing to know that this is in **Gaara's** point of view... Well, enjoy. :D

**Never-ending Cycle----------------------------------------------------------------------**

Watching those stagnant green depths eat away at the surrounding air almost compels this body to rise above the tide and spur the twin pools into motion. "Such is the ocean of no emotion" my father's voice sounds throughout the silence. I look back upon the fuzzy and incomplete picture of a man once cherished, and can not refute this fact. Despite these fading memories my mind clearly remembers how insightful this man was. As my thoughts whirl, I can't deny the similarities. Pictures now blurring, it seems I'm unable to pick one from the other. Green, or blue, there is no difference behind a mind seeing the world in only grays.

I stare as a bony finger, pale against the black void surrounding, scratches pink gouges up a cheek where it grips fading-red hair. White teeth tease an ashen lip into a swollen-pink and I'm unsure whether this is a sign of emotion or another masochistic tendency. In the eyes following after my own I see no conviction nor will to change paths. "Moving against the wind, and changing flows burn away what little is left" after all. Why not rely upon a slow diffusion into the future? Actively pursuing change is a superficial thing, always leaving behind a stinging tongue, a bad taste.

Annoyance fills me to the very last strand of hair on my head. As always it seems this decrepit-mind of mine caught itself within the dry waves of addiction. These thoughts, not thought of by my own conscience wormed it's way into my head. I can do little as it rapes me and leaves a jumbled mess in its wake. Such is The identity crises, the main protection and most vulnerable weakness. Every time I find myself staring into this reverberating image a new dependency presents itself.

Will there ever be a day where I am simply myself? Even as that waxen hand traces circles down a sleep-deprived eye-lid all I am aware of is the radiating heat given off beyond my own. Shivers race along my spine and my stomach twists in upon itself. As my I feel my bodily functions give way all I see is the black fog that dances across my vision before I know no more.

**-------------------WTF?----------------------IDK!---------------------**

I wake up to a weighted feeling, both in body and mind. This dried up husk seems to not want to obey the commands of its own master, on some kind of strike perhaps. I can't seem to be able to find my way through this muddled mess of a conscience. As if on auto-pilot my eyes open and blink away blurred images only to stare upon the white roof of an equally bland apartment.

Once again, against my command, this body stands upon two unstable legs. Walking eight paces forward to open a hollow-door I wince and close my eyes to the sudden bright light. Gazing upon a mirror, I stand confused as to whose green eyes are reflected back at me. I lift my fingers to scratch a line up unfamiliar sickly skin, and then grip the short locks of hair that span across my forehead. These hands, cold to the touch move across black-tinted eyelids in wonderment. Was this another half-assed hallucination?

A sudden shout startles me out of my thoughts as I watch my reflection become overwhelmed by shadows. I scream out and scramble towards the mirror. As I pull against the black fog that threatens my reflection I'm surprised to find my own vision beginning to waver and- I just can't seem- stay- awake.

**-------------------WTF?----------------------IDK!---------------------**

Awakening to the picture of a red-haired insomniac does everything but startle me. As it seems this is but a never ending cycle. Change unthought-of and continuation inevitable.


End file.
